


Starry Eyed

by Emilys_List



Category: American Actor RPF, Social Network (2010) RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe, London, M/M, Olympics
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-07-30
Updated: 2012-07-30
Packaged: 2017-11-11 01:41:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 775
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/473058
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Emilys_List/pseuds/Emilys_List
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jesse is Jesse. Andrew is a gymnast competing in the London Olympics. They have never met before. And I think that about sums it up.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Starry Eyed

Andrew gets on his Vespa and gets as far away as possible from the Olympic Village, which in this case is Hackney Marsh. He’s unfamiliar with the outskirts of London, but he does his best to navigate and lands himself in a corner of a football pitch, sprawled out on the grass, staring at the impossibly blue sky and fluffy clouds.

He thinks about the smog of Beijing, the unfamiliarity, and he’s happy to be home and competing, but it does add a layer of tension. Or something - and he can’t really complete his thought because he sees Jesse Eisenberg wandering past, looking lost and sort of lovely. Huh.

“Are you lost?” He calls out, ever the helpful British gentleman.

Jesse peers around for a second but doesn’t seem to land on Andrew, so he pops up. “Sorry, sorry, was having a bit of a lie down. Are you. Like. You’re Jesse Eisenberg, aren’t you.”

Jesse’s face, which had been sort of relaxed, turns tight. He nods curtly as Andrew boosts himself to standing and strides closer, holding out his hand. “Andrew. Big fan. Huge, in fact.”

Jesse eyes him all over now, and it’s a feeling that makes Andrew blush. “Big fan. You’re gargantuan.” Andrew tries not to take it to heart and Jesse stutters out, “No, no, not like, like - just - you’re very tall and muscular and, oh, Jesus. Do you want to take it back now, being a fan?”

Andrew smiles. He has this strange desire to hold his hand. He shakes his head no, biting his lip. “No. Never.” Then, “So what are you doing?”

“I’m, uh, I’m filming a movie? And we had a little break so I thought I’d find some green, but now I can’t seem to get… out…”

“I can take you where you need to go!” Andrew says brightly. Jesse looks like he’s thinking of a million ways to get out of this, but then he nods his okay and Andrew leads them towards the car park.

On the way Jesse is quiet and Andrew follows suit, even though he’s got so many questions he’d love to pose including, ‘I think we’d be brilliant as friends, what do you reckon?’ Before they reach Andrew’s Vespa, Jesse breaks out and says, “I know where I know you from!” Andrew shrugs and Jesse nods his head. “You’re an Olympian!”

That makes Andrew snort. “That makes me sound like I’m cavorting with Zeus.”

“Well, yeah, maybe you are, but you did really well in the qualifying round, and, actually, I’m seeing you in the all-around finals, I guess, I have tickets.” Now Jesse has stars in his eyes. It’s something that makes Andrew uncomfortable to see in others, to get that kind of acclaim, but he’ll accept it from Jesse because maybe he has a proper crush on him, and has had for awhile. When they reach his Vespa, Jesse shakes his head. “No fucking way am I climbing on this death trap.”

Andrew has two helmets and helpfully straps one onto Jesse’s head, rapping his knuckle against the hard plastic. “I will keep you safe,” he promises, and Jesse weighs it for a good ten seconds before climbing on behind Andrew, his arms bruise tight around him.

He drops him off at set, and he really needs to get back to practice, but he dawdles for a minute, hoping to be asked for his mobile number, and when he’s not he grabs Jesse’s BlackBerry and programs it in. As he does, he says, “I’m a bit, er, tied up through the end of finals but then-” He looks up and smiles. “Then I can sneak you into the Village. Or I can - meet you, or…” Andrew is impulsive, Andrew is full of impulses, his body humming with them, and he tips his face forward just a bit to kiss Jesse’s beautiful lips.

At first he’s out there on his own, but then Jesse kisses back and Andrew feels like he could cry. Instead he puts one hand to the back of Jesse’s head and keeps them kissing, and he’s sinking deeper and further in and then - “Christ.” Jesse pulls back, looking around. “Next time, trailer,” he mumbles before scooting off.

Andrew watches him go then races back to the the Olympic Village where he’s sure he’s in for a scolding for escaping like that. As he parks his Vespa, he sees a text from an American number:  _Good luck, or break a leg, or whatever you’re supposed to say to gymnasts. Looking forward to seeing you on the high bar. Unrelated: you’re much cuter in person. More soon._


End file.
